


An Extension of Us

by ShadowCrusade



Category: RWBY
Genre: M/M, but probably losing a limb, once a fucking again folks its almost midnight and im rushing to post, somewhat beta'd so no death, truly this fucking dumbass hours.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-23 11:00:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23210428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowCrusade/pseuds/ShadowCrusade
Summary: Day 3 of FairGame Week - WeaponsQrow recounts the story of his weapon to Clover, and the tale that follows isn't a pleasant one.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 11
Kudos: 35





	An Extension of Us

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hello thanks for reading its almost midnight and I gotta post this sldfkasdflkjadsfadskfjdfkldsjffjdslf
> 
> Branwen twin bonding before Raven totally betrayed her brother dont mind me

When the tribe had started to allow the twins to be more involved with taking down the Grimm, they needed to make their weapons first. The tribal blacksmith was always working hard at improving and creating weapons for the tribe. After all, they needed to be at their best if they were going to remain strong out here in the wild. Over the years, Wayland of the tribe had a huge number of strange requests over the years, but nothing as creative as what his niece and nephew came up with. 

“You want to make what?” Wayland had asked. He damn near dropped the weapon that he was currently hammering away at. 

“I want a sword that can handle multiple dust blades.” Raven told him simply. His niece staring down at him with an unreadable expression. Her red eyes bore into his. 

_ She’s my brother’s daughter alright. _

“A sword that can handle different dust blades. Gotta say, black bird, that’s a first.” He replied as he hammered out some final details on the sword he was working on. Glancing back over at the girl, he noticed a pleased expression on her face. “I’ll draw up some plans later tonight and we’ll go over it in the morning. How does that sound?” Raven nodded before she glanced next to her. Wayland followed her gaze and found Qrow messing with his spare swords. Again. 

“You’re gonna end up hurting yourself if you keep messing with them, kid.” Wayland warned as he turned his attention back to the sword at his work table. That’s when he heard the crash behind him. He sighed heavily and looked at Raven, who looked disinterested. Looking back at the male twin, he found Qrow had somehow managed to drop the other weapons to the ground and another sword rack was destroyed. “I warned you.”

“I didn’t mean--”

“Bad luck charm strikes again.” He heard some of the men outside his makeshift shop say. Some laughter was heard before it faded away. Qrow said nothing as he simply sank back into a nearby chair that hadn’t been broken. Raven stood next to her brother, a hand on his shoulder in an attempt for some comfort. Wayland often forgets that the twins are only thirteen. Some days they seem older, especially with the harsh look that Raven gives and the defeated weight on Qrow’s shoulders. 

“What about you Qrow? The tribal matches are coming up soon. You should make your weapon soon unless you want to get killed.” He asked. He put away the sword he was currently working on; it could wait ‘til tomorrow to finish. 

“I want a really cool weapon.” Qrow replied.

“Mine’s already cooler.” 

“Rae, you don’t even have one yet.”

“It’ll still be cooler than yours.” And just like that, the two of them started bickering. If it wasn’t for the small moments of comfort that the twins shared, one would think that they absolutely hated each other. That wasn’t the case. It never was.

Wayland activated his Semblance to start making a rough sketch for Raven’s weapon. His Semblance could bring forth his thoughts in digital form, projecting them so that he could sort them out physically. Almost like files stored away in a computer. He used his Semblance in order to create weapons for the tribe, as it turns out, and also had a knack for weapon making. Which is why he became the Branwen Blacksmith instead of attempting to take the position of chief. Although Wayland doubted he could have won against Caliban. 

He could still hear the twins arguing in the background about who would have the cooler weapon. It wasn’t until he started pulling from his thoughts of the different dust blades that the bickering settled down and from the corner of his right eye saw Raven approaching. No doubt ready to put in her input. After over an hour of deliberating, Raven giving as much input as she could, they settled on a final design that they would start to forge within a few days. Once she was satisfied, Raven had left to go occupy herself with other things. No doubt, probably dinner as it was getting late. 

“Uncle?” Wayland tensed up. He had completely forgotten that Qrow was there. He was silent throughout the ordeal with Raven’s weapon. “I know it's late, but can we talk about...my weapon?” Qrow was avoiding eye contact, looking down. Tribal mentality was telling Wayland to yell at the boy to stand straight and speak. Familial instincts knew better. 

He placed his hand on his shoulder. Qrow flinched away for a second before he relaxed into it, raising his eyes to meet his uncle’s. “Qrow, you could have said something before. Why didn’t you?” He noticed the way Qrow’s shoulders slumped and once again looked dejected and cast his gaze down. “You didn’t want Raven to know.” 

“She’s always the center of attention in the tribe. She has father’s attention and the whole tribe expects her to lead one day. Everyone takes a look at me and thinks they see everything. A bad luck charm. But I want to show everyone that I’m more than that. I want to surprise everyone with my own strength. But if I told Raven...she’d laughed at me and wouldn’t really support the idea.” 

Wayland considered his nephew’s words for a moment. It was no secret that Caliban had no real attachment or maybe even love towards his only son. Even though it wasn’t the boy’s fault that Eira had died, Caliban always blamed him. It was amazing that Caliban hadn’t executed the boy once the Semblance was discovered. Maybe it was because there was more Eira in Qrow than Caliban wanted to admit. Wayland never understood and he wasn’t going to bother. 

“Alright... What did you have in mind, little bird?”

* * *

When the time came for the tribal matches, Qrow and Raven were both fourteen. More than ready to participate in the matches and now in the real battles against the Grimm. Both had been training with their weapons profusely, with Raven often going with her father against the Grimm attacks. Qrow, on the other hand, stayed behind and chose to master his secret weapon and slay Grimm that interrupted his training. Wayland often watched the new ways that Qrow used his weapon and was impressed with the progress. With the tribal matches approaching and the twins participating, the older tribesman that already had the honor of going through that rite were curious as to what the twins would bring. 

The tribal matches were to take place in an abandoned village that was terrorized by the Grimm. Lots of them. The goal of the matches was simple: kill as many Grimm as you can, show no mercy to your opponents, and whoever had the most Grimm, wins. There were many new members in the tribe, and this particular rite only took place every few years. So many different members, younger and older, were participating. The twins were the youngest in the matches. The members were taken to the village, and those not participating stayed on top of the trees, watching the competition from a close yet safe distance. 

“For those of you that wish to stay in the tribe, this is your chance to prove yourself!” Caliban’s voice rang out. Catching the attention of the members being addressed and also nearby Grimm. “Only the strong survive in this match, so either you slay as many Grimm and stay...or you get killed by either Grimm or another member. There are no rules! Remember that.” With an explosion setting off in the middle of the abandoned village, the Grimm raced towards it, as did the tribesmen who were ready to hunt them down. 

The battle in the village lasted a long time, with the other tribesmen fighting the Grimm, but also each other. Trying to gain favor with Caliban in a show of strength during this test. Raven herself had killed multiple Grimm and seemed to be doing well with her weapon. Slicing away at Grimm and parrying against members close to her age that wanted to test out their strength. The colorful array of dust blades attracted the attention of the Grimm and her human opponents. 

Qrow, well... no one had seen him. Although his presence was noticed in the field. Buildings unexpectedly falling over on Grimm, other competitors tripping over themselves. The boy was there, but no one knew where he was or what he had been doing. Qrow was a silent competitor, and that was a terrifying concept of what he could become. It wasn’t until towards the end of the competition that Qrow had revealed himself. Aura’s were running low, Raven’s especially. She had fought a long battle and it was her first real battle. She took a few hits that could be avoided with more training and experience and Caliban had even made a note of that. That’s when the Grimm made the move. A pack of Beowolves that had been lurking in the shadow, slowly surrounding the young girl went in for the kill. 

An attack came from behind as Raven went to grab her sword, but unfortunately, she noticed too late as the Grimm took a swipe at her, knocking her to the side and shattered her aura. The Beowolf leaped again, ready to demolish it’s prey when the sound of shotgun was loud and clear. The Grimm dissolved before reaching Raven and she turned to look behind her. Her brother stood before her, greatsword in hand with two shotgun barrels pointed at where the Grimm was. Before she could say anything, Qrow turned his attention to the other approaching Grimm and went forward to take them on. 

He sliced through two Beowolves that approached from the sides when one lept over him, intending to bounce back and attack from behind. That’s when his true weapon was revealed, quickly with a whirring sound taking place, Qrow’s weapon extended into something much larger--a scythe. 

Raven couldn’t believe her eyes. Her brother easily struck from underneath the Grimm and killed it almost immediately, swinging the scythe forward and killing two others approaching Grimm. 

The final Grimm were slain, the competition was over. The older members of the tribe approached the center of the village, where the twins were located. Qrow retracted his weapon back into its smaller sword form, placing it in it’s holster behind his back. Raven stood up from where she was still knocked down from and walked slowly over to her brother. The other members of the tribe that had survived the competition all looked at Qrow’s weapon. The fear in their eyes was seen. They knew, if Qrow wanted to, he could have killed them all. 

“A grand weapon, for a grand entrance.” An older tribesman stated, while others nodded in agreement. 

“It has earned it’s right to a name.” Nobody moved. Caliban approached from behind the crowd. Making his way towards the front, facing Qrow, a gleam in his eyes. The young boy, stared back not once taking his eyes off his father. Instead of joy or shock on Qrow’s face, there was only annoyance and distrust. “Well? Does it have one?” 

“I don’t think you’ve earned the right to learn that.” Qrow shot back before moving past his father and into the crowd. The shocked gazes on everyone’s face, except for Caliban’s, who only had a small smile. 

“Spoken like a true member of this tribe.” Everyone stopped, even Qrow. Their attention back on their leader. “Those that survived the tribal match today, are now full fledged members of the tribe.” There were cheers all around for those that made it and Raven had been received by the others. 

“What have you named your weapon?” Someone had asked.

“Omen.” She responded. “You won’t ever know if I’m a good one, or a bad one.” Qrow scoffed. As he let the tribe crowd around her as they headed back. Qrow falling behind them. 

For so long, the tribe treated him as an outsider because of his Semblance. Now, they think they had a right to know the name of his weapon. He wouldn’t reveal the name of his weapon to anyone that didn’t deserve it. 

_ Bad luck charm? Misfortune? Unlucky bird? That’s what they all call me. I am misfortune, but now I’ll be their worst fear. Not someone they can push around anymore. _

_ I will be a Harbinger of Misfortune.  _

* * *

“Harbinger, huh?” Clover asked. Looking over at the greatsword in question. He was almost tempted to touch it but thought better of it. The blade did look real sharp after all, no doubt Qrow took very well care of it. 

“Yeah... I named it that thinking I could overcome the Tribe’s hatred towards me. I think I succeeded in being left alone.” Qrow told him as he came up behind Clover and wrapped his arms around the brunette’s waist. His head nestled on top of the Captain’s shoulder. “No one really wanted to be friends with the kid that could absolutely skewer them.” Clover chuckled. His hand on Harbinger’s handle. Qrow nuzzled the side of Clover’s neck and could feel Clover take a deep breath in. His body relaxed against Qrow’s. 

“What about your lucky charm? What’s the story behind your fishing hook there?” Qrow asked. Clover shook his head, and Qrow could see an amused smile on his face. “It’s Kingfisher and it’s not a fishing hook.”

“Can you even fish with that?”

“Not unless I'm fishing for Grimm.”

“With my luck, I’d reel in the Leviathan Grimm.” Qrow told him as Clover laughed loudly. His whole body shook with laughter. 

“Would you be surprised if I told you that I made that weapon based on a joke that my sister made?” Clover told him, now holding the weapon and handing it to Qrow. 

“Please tell me you’re joking.” 

“Nope! She said, and I quote, ‘Clover, with all the crazy shit you do, you might as well just go fishing for luck and hope a piranha doesn’t attack you.” Clover told him with a smile as Qrow inspected the weapon more thoroughly.

“Clover...” 

“And well, that’s how Kingfisher happened.” 

Qrow doubled over laughing. “Here I have a tragic backstory for mine, and yours was based on a joke your sister made.” 

“Well, when you put it like that...”

“Okay, so what about the name?” Qrow asked. “Let me guess. It was the bird you would see all the time in Argus.” 

“No! Of course not!” Clover exclaimed. Qrow raised an eyebrow at him as he placed the weapon down next to his own. “I named it after the bird that my youngest sister rescued after it’s wing got damaged.” Qrow couldn’t help but laugh once again. “It ended up staying with the family! So we kept it as a pet and we were all very sad when that little guy died! We had a funeral and everything!” 

Qrow wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. “A funeral for a bird?!” 

“We dressed in black, buried it in the family plot, and had a dinner afterwards to honor the bird.”

“I can’t believe I’m dating the world’s biggest dork with the dorkiest family.” Qrow shook his head in disbelief, the remainder of his laughter fading into a small smile as he looked over at his boyfriend. 

“Would you call yourself...the luckiest guy around?” 

“Ugh stop. Even Yang wouldn’t approve of that one.” 

Clover chuckled as he stepped forward, wrapping around his arms around Qrow’s waist and placing his forehead against the rogue huntsman. “I think she’d get a good laugh out of it.” Clover told him. 

Qrow scoffed and shook his head gently, never breaking the physical contact between them. Clover leaned in, his boyfriend’s eyes half lidded as their lips gently met in the middle. Qrow’s circling the other’s back, before pulling them closer together, deepening the kiss. They held each other like that for a few minutes, allowing an exchange of soft kisses before Qrow broke away, nuzzling against Clover’s nose. 

“Our weapons are so different in every way.” Qrow told him. 

“But they work well together.” Clover replied. “Just like us.” His uncle’s words from a long time ago came into Qrow’s mind then. Words he hadn't thought about in a long time. 

_ Weapons are an extension of who you are as a person. How you use that part of yourself, says alot about what you value. _

“Yeah, just like us.” 


End file.
